Stephen awoke feeling a little weak, but otherwise refreshed. He climbed out of his bunk (Jack’s cot, actually), straightened the bedclothes, and considered his surroundings.
He was in a small bedroom, furnished with a heavy wooden wardrobe and matching bureau, several worn steel lockers, a pair of chairs set into sockets in the floor, and of course the cot, built into the wood-paneled wall. Two doors were set in the walls, one opening in, the other out, and a window, currently dark.
Stephen tried the inward-opening door, and looking at its edge discovered it to be metal, with a wooden facing. The doorjamb revealed the wall to be of the same construction.
“There you are,” said Jack, then, “is there something wrong with the door?”
“I don’t remember seeing wooden walls in a space ship before, but I guess it’s a veneer. The wall appears to be the same.”
“Strictly speaking, this is a brig,” said Jack, “but yes, space craft walls are metal, though these cabins are lined with deal. The wardroom is similar, with wooden wainscot. But are you feeling better? Would you like something to eat or drink?”
“Coffee, perhaps?” said Stephen, entering the room and shutting the door behind him, “if it isn’t trouble?”
“Not at all,” said Jack. “Bollwerk? Bollwerk there, a pot of coffee and two mugs, if you please, and perhaps some orange juice as well. Do you take milk, sir,” he asked Stephen.
“Perhaps not just now,” said Stephen, sitting down and looking about. “This is rather a grand room.”
"Isn’t it? This is the great cabin, a sort of office, sitting room and dining cabin for the brig’s commander, along with the coach, though of course the coach will be your for this trip. There is a head- that is, a toilet, though there,” he gestured to a discreet door, “and a shower,” he gestured to an equally discreet door on the opposite wall.
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